


Cecile Hockley

by Linymae



Category: Titanic (1997)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-10-17 21:23:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10602510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linymae/pseuds/Linymae
Summary: Cecile had her entire life ripped away from her when she boarded onto the Titanic. She lost her loving mother, then she gained a ruthless father. A man so enamored with himself he almost threw her away when he reached the new world so he could start anew. Pitying her, he swept her away into a life of luxuries she could have never dreamed of, ensuring her survival and breathing into her, new life.





	1. Chapter 1

As the titanic sank, those of us in the life boats watched as people we loved dearly and strangers we never knew vanished beneath the icy waters. The cold air was no match for the coldness in our hearts. That was the only way to ensure our survival. Watch the others die silently, our hearts icing over, for the chance to live. 

I was a young child and I don't remember much, but I remember watching as my mother ran off to find a lifeboat, promising me she'd be back. Frightened and lonely I cried out, the only person bothering to glance at me was a sour man who ran, then returned to save me. He claimed to be my father, a lie that we both knew, and I believe the steward knew it too, but it ensured us both a seat on the lifeboat. 

We were caught on the ship as it began to sink, and the man who saved me passed me off to a kind lady to save himself. As the cold waters soaked my clothing, the woman holding me fought with desperation to save us and get us back onto a life boat. As we climbed inside, the man who saved me from my frozen nook in the ship pushed away people just trying to survive like us. "They would overturn us," he reminded us, and we all kept silent, some even going as far as to join him. We were all desperate to live and even thought we were good at heart, we didn't dare speak up and have him throw us off. He was ruthless and he knew how to survive. It was an ugly fact that nobody ever wishes to face, but when judgement day comes some people put themselves first and ensure their own survival, others keep quiet and let them do as they must. 

The heads slowly sank into the waters, and the cries faded. The people around us stared in disbelief, not knowing they had the cruelty inside them to do what they did. Nobody offered to go back for any remaining bodies for fear that their weak, frozen limbs would sink our boat as well. We waited for hours, hungry and cold, not knowing what else to do. 

I remember trying to sleep, but being too cold. I kept trying, though, keeping my eyes shut and telling myself that momma would be there when I woke up. Hope sparked inside when those in the boat murmured and cried at the site of a new boat on the horizon. The "real lifeboat" as the lady holding onto me called it. Her tears splashed onto my face as she held me tight, relieved as this meant she was going to live. 

We all boarded onto the boat, each of us suddenly alive again, but nobody dared speak the horrors of the night. The kind lady holding me refused to keep me, telling the new people that my father was in the boat with us. He was missing, though, and soon she was too. I was completely alone again, and I wished to be back with my mother and the Titanic. I didn't asked to be saved, to be alone with my family gone forever. 

Like many of the others, the sour man was searching through survivors looking for a lady, but never finding her. As he glanced at me, he stopped, wanting to move on, but hesitating. He sighed and straightened his jacket, walking to me. He sat down next to me, cold and unwelcoming he said, "We've all lost things very dear to us tonight. Some of us lost possessions, while others such as yourself lost their families. These are things we will never get back. No matter how hard we search for them, no matter how much money we spend, they will be gone forever. Never forget, they are gone, but you are still here. You are a survivor, little girl." 

He sat with me until a kind older man came by, asking us for our names. "Caledon Hockley," he answered, almost annoyed that the gentleman had asked. 

He marked it on his clipboard and asked gently, "And who is this beautiful girl?" 

I didn't want to answer, the thought of even saying my name choked me up inside. I hid my face in my cold coat. "This is my daughter, Cecile Hockley," Caledon replied promptly. 

"Daughter?" he asked, skeptical of our differences. Where Caledon's hair was dark, mine was red. His was straight, mine was curly. His skin was even and peachy, mine was very light with redness in my face. 

"Yes. Her mother is...was Irish." He was quick to think of excuses and it reminded me of how he was quick back on the Titanic to save him and myself. The sour look that came across his face helped to silence the man and he soon moved on from us. 

I let Caledon take me off the boat and into a car, a luxury I had never even seen back home. He spoke quietly, keeping his voice low enough for only us to hear. "You have a difficult choice to make at such a young age. You can either forget your old life and be a lady in society or you can refuse to let go and live with the rest of the Irish in the slums, alone. It should be an easy decision, but to throw away who you are and the life you had can be a troublesome task. Which would you choose?"  


I was dumbfounded by the choices he laid in front of me and I couldn't think of an answer if I wanted to. 

"Good," he replied, taking my silence as my answer. "You are no longer the little Irish girl you were, you are now Cecile Hockley, the heir to the Hockley Steel fortune. I do not even wish to know your name. I will provide all the training needed to make you into a lady in society. I expect your obedience and will offer little affection. You will not call me papa." 

"What do I call you?" The thought of what to call this man who was claiming me as his own was the biggest problem facing me as I tried to comprehend what was happening. 

"If you must, you may call me father or Cal." 

I accepted the stories he told me of my "old" life as reality. He and my mother were so in love that they had a secret daughter out of wedlock. As he brought her to America for the wedding, he was also bringing me. When the Titanic sank Cal risked his life for us, but he couldn't save us both. He had to choose between her or me. She asked him to save me instead, giving the chance of life to their young child. She was beautiful and kind, and her name was Rose.


	2. 2

Adjusting to my new life was difficult and Cal made it no easier. I could no longer laugh loudly, and playing was a rarity I could barely even ask to do. I had to learn to play music, to draw, to write, to read, and even calculate numbers that seemed impossible to even need to know. Back home I knew that I would never had needed to know these things. I would have needed to know how to tell when it was going to rain, how to sew a decent stitch, how deep to bury the crops, all things I was told about long ago. Cal reminded me constantly that those things were not what a lady worried about, although sewing was where I would end up if I didn't forget my old life. 

Cal liked to remind me that he could decide whether I lived in luxury with him or in the streets with the rest of the Micks. When he would call me a "dirty Mick," I cried. I didn't know what it was, but I knew by the way he spat the word that I didn't want to be with them and certainly did not want to be one. He knew the best way to get me to obey him was just to shout the word at me and I'd come crawling to him, my tail between my legs. 

Cal's frustrations seemed to grow by the day. He was never very pleasant when he spoke with me, he liked to use loud words and harsh language. He would intimidate me, reducing me to tears out of fear of what he would do. He would raise his hand, but lower it calling out that he wished he could hit me, but always refusing to. He would break the lovely things he had bought me and would hit the maids if they were too close. I was thankful it wasn't me, but when Cal left I would cry with the maid if she let me. 

When Cal was at work the giant house seemed to be in a lighter mood. The curtains were drawn open, letting the light shine off the slick floors and illuminating the lovely artwork on all the walls. The staff seemed to enjoy themselves more, too. I played a game with myself trying to see if I could catch them humming and laughing before I entered the room. Once they saw me, they would scurry away, knowing I wouldn't hurt them, but being terrified of my tattling to Cal. It was a boring game, but it was the safest one to play in a giant house where I had no siblings or friends. 

With everybody afraid of me I was able to roam through the endless count of rooms, seeing dozens of bedrooms, libraries, studies, and dens. No two rooms did look alike, although they all had the same basic layout with a few elaborate chairs, heavy velvet curtains, and at least one oversized painting. I enjoyed going through each and every one seeing which treasures lay behind each closed door. My favorite room was a very large bedroom which seemed to be fit for a princess. The walls were a boring white with a golden decorative molding. There was golden tables and white chairs about the room, with rugs to match, and a ornate gold and white vanity with a matching dressing screen in the corner of the room. An oversized bed with a fluffy white pillows and blankets lay in the center of the room with a delicate lace canopy hanging above it. It looked as if you would disappear beneath the covers and fall into it's pillows, forever becoming part of the soft bed if you day lay in it. The room was matched so perfectly except for the large painting hanging on the opposite wall of the bedroom of a giant rose bush. As beautiful as the painting was, it didn't belong in this room and I wondered why it was placed in here at all. 

I sneaked into that room as often as I could make believing that I really had had a mother named Rose and this was her bedroom. I would play that she and I would sit at the vanity, doing each other's hair and makeup and then we would go curl up on the bed for a nap. We would have tea in the afternoons, and would let nobody disturb us, especially not Cal. 

Between Cal's insisting lies and my own make believe I truly began to believe Cal was my father and that I had had a mother name Rose. Perhaps she was an actress, or even heir to the English throne. She was very beautiful and loving and would have done anything for me. I wished it to be true and in my mind it was true. When I finally found the portrait of her and Cal there was no doubt in my mind it was true. We had the same crinkly red hair and pale skin, with the same deep blue eyes. I was her daughter. 

Cal could see it too, and I believed that was why he was so hard on me. He wanted me to live up to the memory of this wonderful woman whom he must have loved very much. I could only imagine him being gentle with her, caring for her, and loving her so much as to be physically hurt at the sight of seeing her daughter, a splitting image of her. I tried to be nicer to him, understanding why he was so angry, and trying to help. 

One morning at breakfast as we ate in silence I decided to make a change, to show him that I loved him just as much as my mother would have. "Father," I said, and Cal struggled to find the source of the noise, "I just wanted to tell you that I love you." 

Cal was taken aback and didn't know what to say. His grimace softened into an tight smile as he said, "Thank you, Cecile." 

It was the most loving gesture he had given me up to that point and I like to think it was the reason why he became softer with me in the weeks to come.


	3. Chapter 3

"Cecile," Cal announced, walking into my room. His hands were behind his back and he looked unimpressed by the lack of skill I showed with the piano, the instrument he insisted I play over all others. 

"Father!" I exclaimed, happy to have a break from the torture I was producing. I stood and ran to embrace him. He was unhappy that I had forgotten my manors, but he softened as I wrapped my arms around his waist. 

He stepped backwards after a moment, signaling me to break away. I did and I looked up at him eagerly. "I have a gift for you, Cecile." 

"A gift? For me?" I asked, astonished. Cal had bought me plenty of things, clothes, books, furniture, but nothing was actually for me, they were just things I needed. A gift was something personal, something a person who cares for you sees and instantly thinks of you and how much you'll enjoy it. Cal buying me a gift meant that he had thought of me while he was away and wanted to come home and make me happy. 

He smiled quickly before replying, "yes, for you." His words came out in a hurry, it was if he was annoyed. Remembering where the gift was he brought his hands out from behind his back and revealed to me a beautiful porcelain doll. She had red hair and blue eyes just like my mother and me, and she was dressed in one of the finest gowns I had ever seen. 

"She's perfect," I whispered and reached my hands out to grab at her. 

Cal slapped my hand. It hurt, but I knew instantly I was wrong. "You do not grab for gifts, you are given them," he gently scolded. He waited for me to hang my head and accept that I was wrong before presenting me the doll again. This time I waited for it to be given, and once she was in my hands I instantly loved her. Her silky white gown flowed through my fingers, a material I had never felt before and knew I wanted much more of. Her hair was soft like a kittens and I petted her head again and again until my fingers felt the jewels on her neck. They were sharp and the blue jewel matched her eyes. "Those are real diamond pieces surrounding that blue topaz jewel. I almost didn't buy her, a child with a doll made with real diamonds that are sure to be stolen or lost is foolish, but she does bare a striking resemblance to you that I could not overlook." 

"She is so beautiful, thank you, Father!" I threw my arms around him once more and he seemed to enjoy it as he placed a hand on my back. 

"She's not to play with," he reminded me, knowing that I would play with her every day if I could. "She should be displayed proudly in your room and only taken down to be cleaned." 

"Of course, Father, she's too precious to play with!" I admired her, knowing that I wanted to sleep with her every night. She was not just a beautiful doll, she was a doll that Cal had seen during his busy day and thought of me. It was a very loving gesture and I loved it more than he could ever know. He wouldn't say he loved me, to be attached to a _Mick_ would be embarrassing, but I knew from this doll that he did in fact love me. 

Cal began buying me more dolls, each continuing to be beautiful and to be admired. I had a doll that looked like a queen, and I had a doll that looked like a child. I had dolls with gowns, others with day dresses, some with blonde hair, some with brown hair. He never bought me another doll with red hair, though. He could sense my desire to play with my dolls and soon he brought me home a stuffed bear. 

"This is not a doll!" I exclaimed, disappointed. I loved receiving gifts, and was thankful for every one of them, but I was expecting another gorgeous girl to add to my collection, not a cute little bear with a blue bow around his neck. 

"No, this is a Teddy Bear, named after our president Theodore Roosevelt. Many of the children that come to the factory say they enjoy playing with the Teddy Bear most out of all their toys." 

"Playing? I can play with this bear?" My eyes got wide with excitement. I wasn't allowed to play and this was a gift that was made specifically for play! 

"You can," he replied, trying to suppress his smile. 

I threw my arms around him, a habit Cal was beginning to enjoy. "Thank you, Father, thank you so much!" I was ecstatic that I was finally given a toy that I could play with. I began playing with him then, having adventures all throughout the house. I showed him the studies, I showed him the bedrooms, I introduced him to the staff, and when Cal retired to the den with a business friend, I introduced him to mother. She was glad I finally had a friend in the house and she was more glad that Cal loved me enough to buy it for me. I only wished that she could have been there when he gave it to me. To see the look on her face when he presented me a gift that he asked his workers about would have made me giggle. Cal didn't like speaking to his workers and to ask them for advice would be blasphemous. I was tickled at the idea that he did it for me and I hoped that he could finally see past my mother when he looked at me and just see me and feel the love in his heart for only me.


	4. Chapter 4

I took Mr.Teddy with me everywhere I went. I did not read without him, as I had to read to him. I would not paint without him, as he had to paint with me. I would not play piano without him, as I had to teach him, but he was no better than I. We were thick as thieves and I could sense the joy father felt whenever he saw me with him. I feel that joy stayed with him throughout the day. He would be smiling as he came home from work. When he received a telephone call rather than growling, he would greet the person speaking to him. When there was a guest at the door he would no longer look aggravated by their presence, but rather welcoming. He was happier now and I couldn't help but feel responsible. He even went so far as to plan a party for all of his friends. 

"A lot of important people will be here," he reminded me as he surveyed me, making sure my nanny and governess did a fine job with me. "I need to make sure you remember your manors." 

"I will, father," I reassured him. I was anxious to meet people and excited to be in my prettiest pink dress, one Cal had bought specifically for this night. 

"I know you will, or else," he began, but stopped. Normally he would threaten to kick me out, but he saw my improvements and a softer tone changed his answer. "Or else I will have your nanny bring you back to your rooms." 

I understood that meant I would not return to the party and I desperately wanted to be at that party with father. "Will there be children to play with?" I asked. 

"There will. They will be with their nannies as well. You must only play with the ones Nanny Nadine approves of." He stared at my nanny, making sure she understood exactly what he meant. He leaned in close to me and whispered, "Remember, you are _my_ daughter. Only mine. No one else's." 

"I remember, father. Mother is gone, you are my only family left. Except Mr.Teddy." 

He smiled playfully, glad to have a light moment. "Mr.Teddy can be a part of our family if you wish, Cecile." He kissed my forehead and spoke harshly to Nanny Nadine before returning to speak to me. "You will come out in a bit, for now I must make sure everything is ready." 

"Okay, father." He smiled quickly before rushing out of the nursery. 

Nanny Nadine and I played with Mr.Teddy as we waited to go to the party. Finally she checked me over once more and we left the room, leaving Mr.Teddy to wait to hear about the party. I was ushered by my nanny to the dinner table, sitting far away from my father. He was next to a lady and a few older men while I was seated by the other children and their nannies. I was excited to be with other children, but I wanted to be near father. I knew not to say anything, though, a lady doesn't whine. 

As I looked around at the people the boy across the table smiled at me. I smiled back and Nanny Nadine forced me to concentrate on my napkin in my lap. She spoke with the other adults, pleasant conversation and quick questions. Nothing personal, and nothing interesting. I looked at the boy again and he was smiling again. He waved and I glanced around the table, making sure father nor Nanny Nadine were looking before waving back. He and I both giggled having gotten away with being casual not proper before Nanny Nadine forced me to fix my napkin again. 

The dinner was a cycle of me trying to interact with the other children and Nanny Nadine forcing me to keep my attention on my plate. I was not aloud to speak, I was not even aloud to look at the other children. I wanted to speak to them, I wanted to play with them, but I could not. Each time Nanny Nadine would find something for me to concentrate on or something more for me to eat. I knew I had to do as I was told and it only made it harder. 

Dinner was finally over and we all began to rise from the table when Nanny Nadine suggested I retire to bed. "But I want to play with the children!" 

"Not tonight, it is too late. You need to go to bed soon." 

"I'm not even tired!" I whined. 

"Ladies do not whine!" she scolded me. "You forgot your manors and must now go back to your room." 

"That's not fair! You antagonized me and made me whine!" I was frustrated she wouldn't let me interact with the other children. I had seen nobody besides the staff and my father in so long I was unsure there was still people outside of our home. My frustration turned into tears and I could barely contain them. 

"Miss Cecile, ladies do not cry!" 

I could not stop as the tears began to roll down my cheeks. "I don't want to be a lady if I can not play with the children!" I stomped my foot, throwing a tantrum. 

Father saw me and hurried my nanny and I into a nearby room, shutting the door behind me. "Why is she crying?" he demanded. 

"Mister, she wanted to play with the other children. She does not want to retire for the evening." 

"She wants to play with the children." Father laughed "With the children!" He laughed again and slapped Nanny Nadine across the face. "Then let her play with the other children! Do not make her throw a tantrum and forget who she is because she wants to play with the children!" 

"But you said-" 

Father slapped her again, cutting her off. "Do not talk back to me! Clearly what we need here is a better nanny! How can I expect you to teach my daughter how to be a lady when you can't be one yourself? Perhaps a new nanny is in order." Cal left the room and quickly returned with his butler. "Take the nanny out of the house and off the grounds. Her things can be returned to her later. For now, bring in Cecile's governess." 

I waited, terrified as father walked around the room angry. He looked at me as I sniffed and demanded answers from me. "What more did you say?" I didn't respond. I didn't know how. "You said you didn't want to be a lady, what more did you say?" I burst out crying, tears streaming down my face, unable to hold anything back. This was it, this was the moment father finally threw me out into the streets with the other Micks. 

I ran to him, wrapping my hands around him, embracing him one last time. "I'm sorry, father! I didn't mean to say it, but Nanny Nadine was being so mean! Please don't kick me out, please! I don't want to be a Mick, I want to be a lady!" I cried into his pants and he was frozen, unsure of what to do. 

After a moment he pulled away. "You said nothing else?" 

I shook my head no. "No, father. I told Nanny Nadine that I didn't want to be a lady if I couldn't play with the children, but I do want to be a lady, father, I do! I want to stay here with you, father, I love you." 

I embraced father again and he hugged me back, softening with relief. He pulled away, looking into my eyes. "No more tantrums, Cecile. You are a lady and you must not throw tantrums least somebody begin to question your validity. Understand?" 

"Are you going to throw me out?" 

He laughed robustly, "I will not throw you out for throwing a tantrum over an incompetent nanny. I care for you too much now. I just need you to act like a lady. Can you do that for me?" 

"I can, father, I promise!" 

He kissed my forehead and said, "good girl." 

Father's butler and my governess returned and father quickly spoke with them, not letting me listen. "Cecile, Lady Anastasia is now your governess and your nanny. You must listen to her at all times until I find you a new nanny. I know I told you you could play with the children, but you have to return to your room tonight." 

"But I want to meet the children," I said sheepishly. 

"Not tonight, not after all the excitement. If you retire tonight, I will bring the children over to play another day." 

I perked up at the thought of getting to see the children again and agreed instantly. "Okay, father! Good night, I love you!" I hugged him once more and was relieved when he hugged me back. 

Lady Anastasia ushered me back to my room through what I assumed was the staff's halls as I had never seen the path we took and I saw no party guests at all. When we returned Lady Anastasia took much longer than Nanny Nadine in preparing me for bed. All the while I explained to Mr.Teddy all about the party, telling him everything. When I was finally in bed she tried to take Mr.Teddy from me but I cried out, "No!" 

"But this is a toy. You are sleeping now, no need for toys." 

"Not Mr.Teddy! He sleeps in the bed with me." 

Lady Anastasia wanted to fight me, but did not want to join Nanny Nadine wherever she was and so she conceded. "Good night, Lady Anastasia."

In the morning Lady Anastasia brought my breakfast to me in bed. "Why am I not eating at the table with father?" I asked. 

"Your father is not feeling well and so he asked that you be given breakfast in your room." Lady Anastasia spoke very formally, not meeting my gaze nor speaking directly to me. She was not as warm as Nanny Nadine, but I felt as if I could get away with more as she was not sure of the rules yet. 

"I don't want breakfast in bed," I tried her. 

"Where would you like breakfast?" she asked politely. 

I pondered my options and thought of what I would really like. "I would like to eat breakfast at the table with father." 

Lady Anastasia thought about her words carefully before responding. "You can not do that today, your father is ill." 

"But that's what I want." 

She looked nervous as she replied, "You can not have what you want today." 

"Nanny Nadine didn't give me what I wanted at the party. That's why you're my nanny now." She didn't know what to say so she stared at me hard, trying to appear fierce and in control when we both knew I was the one in control now. "I do not want to eat in my room. I want to eat at the table with father."

"Your father said-" she began, but I cut her off. 

"My father said to take away Nanny Nadine because I threw a tantrum. I could throw another one and have him say the same to you." I had never behaved like this before, using somebody to get what I wanted. I could feel the power I had over her. All I had to do was tell father to get me a new nanny and he would and she knew that now. She was terrified to lose her job, her whole life, and go back to the slums disgraced. 

I stood up and walked towards her. "Do you want me to dress myself, or will you help me?" I asked, knowing she was going to let me go to the table. 

Reluctantly, she brought over a dress and brushed my hair. She moved slowly, trying to buy herself time until I would grow hungry and give up on my desire to eat with father. I was determined now more than before. She had already given in and now I was the one in charge. Finally we were finished and I skipped down the halls towards the dining room, Lady Anastasia fighting to keep up with me. As we approached I heard a lady laugh and stopped skipping. The only women who lived in this house was the staff and myself, and the staff never were so foolish as to laugh so loudly. I looked back at Lady Anastasia who seemed frightened. I entered the dining room and saw father sitting at the table with a smile on his face and a woman and a young boy by his side. "Father who are they?" I asked. He didn't look ill and why he would let to strangers eat with him and not me hurt. 

"Cecile!" He was surprised to see me and although I knew he wouldn't show it, he seemed nervous as he was taken aback. "I thought you were eating breakfast in your rooms this morning," he reminded Lady Anastasia. 

She refused to speak, knowing she was in a bad situation. "I wanted to eat with you, father." I stepped towards them and I noticed the boy was one of the boys from last night. I wondered why he and the woman next to him were here again this morning.

"Yes, I imagine you would." Father thought quickly and excused himself, taking Lady Anastasia and me into the hall to speak. "You were supposed to keep her in her room!" he scolded Lady Anastasia. 

"I know." She hung her head in shame. 

"That's all you to say, is that you know of my one request for the morning? You are not sorry, you are not begging to keep your job, you aren't even able to meet my gaze?" 

I didn't want to lose Lady Anastasia or the flicker of power I had recently acquired over her. I had to speak up even though it meant father would be angry with me. "I demanded to eat with you, father." 

He looked at me, confused. " _Demanded?_ " 

"Yes. Lady Anastasia told me you were ill and that you wanted me to stay in my room to avoid illness myself. I told her I didn't care and that I wanted to eat with you no matter what illness I may catch. You are my father, ill or not, and I wish to be with you." 

He sighed, exhausted by me I assumed. "Cecile, you have come a long way," he laughed. "You're very bold when you want to be. You might turn out to be more of a Hockley than I thought. Let's all finish breakfast at the table, but please, do not speak speak with our guests. They are not used to a family such as our and will take some time for us to be considered permissible with them." 

Pleased, I smiled widely. I knew now that I had my father's approval and I had power over Lady Anastasia. She was now here only because I wanted her to be, and I was going to remind her of that whenever I needed to.


End file.
